When Hell Freezes Over
by Katninja69
Summary: After 4 survivors meet in the paradise of Alaska, fear looms as the once destined vacation spot becomes a frozen wasteland of death. Teaming up with the young outcast, Luna, the remaining two go in search for her brother while juggling the fact none may get out of the winter horrorland alive. Along the way they find a peculiar creature willing to risk his life to save theirs.
1. Prolouge: Alone

It has been at least a week since Luna took refuge in an old storage shed. Deep in the winter months in Alaska, the once beautiful tourism spot now became a bloody, carnage filled wasteland. Once winter set in the zombies began to freeze to death, but within the week Luna was sent into hiding they began to adapt to the fridged climate; they became smart enough to seek out warm clothing for themselves. Her team had long since abandoned her and left her to die thinking she was too weak to carry on with them. To get rid of the weakest link meant higher chances of survival. What they didn't know is that this wasn't her first time having been cast out with only her wits to depend on. Having lived in a cabin in Alaska as a child her parents were cruel to her and would throw her out of the house if she misbehaved in any possible way, even if she didn't do anything. She then learned to hone in on her natural harvesting and survival skills to stay alive in the subzero temperatures.

Food wasn't a problem for her. The shed in which she hid within was filled with things to eat, it was making it so that the zombies wouldn't detect her. Fire means survivors and survivors means a free meal. She had grown used to the icy, metallic taste of the frozen food, but the rawness of it would often disrupt her digestive system and cause her to throw it back up. Still, she knew it was her only chance of living and so she continued eating the frozen food. Water was all around her. The snow would be collected in a tin can she found and drunk still in its crystal form. However it didn't match the nice thought of having a nice cup of warm water to drink and hot food to eat. Because the tourism spots were usually occupied by the zombies she felt that the shed was the only safe place for her. Safe houses aren't easy to come by in Alaska. Sometimes their doors will be sealed shut by the ice, other times there will be a group, or even a family, housing in there and refusing to share their supplies. Eventually they are driven out by shortages and are soon killed.

She had no idea if anyone else was alive or not. She didn't know if there were any survivors if they would find her. If they did would they help her? Would they accept her in their group and let her prove that she isn't weak as everyone says? Luna kept these thought in mind just in case something like it was soon to come. In the meantime she focused mainly on her survival. If she could survive long enough for others to find and help her she would be a quarter of a way to redeeming herself. That was her hope.

However on this particular night she had to light a fire in order to keep herself warm. A few minutes later she heard a scraping noise from outside. Quickly she held her breath and sat as still as a statue. The noise grew as it tried to dig into the shed and soon a low, blood chilling howl was emmited from the creature. She knew immediately what it was. Prowler, a special infected that has adapted completely to the chilly weather.

It is believed to be a relative of another infected that hunts the snowy plaines, the hunter, as they both are able to jump incredibly high and land on its prey from death defying heights. The difference is that prowlers are more advanced when it comes to tracking prey and have keen senses of smell, hearing, and eye sight. With a shield like film over their eyes they won't take their eyes off of their prey even in a snowy blizzard and they can grab ahold of a survivor with the long, black tentacles that extend from a pouch in their backs. Their skin is reptilian and blueish white to blend in with its frozen surroundings with long black claws to tear into the flesh of their prey. One is company, but many are a death sentence. Though they tend to fight over food they know how to work in packs and survivors know better than to pick a fight with more than one. Even two can overwhelm four humans. They let out a terrifying bellow when alert and scream when attacking.

She quickly put out the fire and sat huddled in a corner as the Prowler hit against the door. Luna stifled a gasp as the wood cracked and a bulky shadow jumped through the hole. It stood on its hind legs and flicked out its forked tongue searching for heat. Luna silently made her way to her food pile and picked up a can tossing it out of the building. The prowler snorted and whipped its long face around to where the sound was made. Croaking softly it made its way to where the can was thrown and Luna went to a nearby ladder. She screamed as she felt its claws dig into her leg and rip her off from the ladder and onto the snow. Scarlet droplets dripped from her wound and the Prowler circled the poor girl.

As it pounced she pulled out her hunting knife and shoved it into its chest. Stabbing it a few more times she watched it utter one last cry before falling onto the snow. A puddle of blood soaked the snow as she attempted to bind her leg. Assuring she could stand she took the arm of the prowler and dragged it out into the clearing. If she left it in the shed with her it would surely attract more attention from the others outside. Once back inside the shed she carefully climbed the ladder and hid in a dark corner. Quietly she cried herself to sleep, wishing, hoping for help to come soon.


	2. Chapter 1: Lady Luck

The blizzard buffeted the survivors and pushed them back as they trudged through the knee deep snow. Darkness had fallen and the moon was as white as the powder crystals they walked in. All was quiet. Too quiet. A hefty man shifted his M1918 and looked up at the sky.

"When do you think we'll be outta here?" He growled in a heavy Scottish accent.

"When we find a safe place, Marcus." A tall man whispered. "Keep your voice down, you might attract unwanted company."

"And if we never do find a safe place?"

"Marc shut up! If Roger says we'll find it we will!" A woman snapped.

"How can you be so sure? We haven't seen tooth nor claw of those ugly infected things, but that doesn't mean we're safe."

"Marcus, Tetra, there's no need to panic."

Tetra glared at Marcus and was quiet for a second.

"If Charlie was here we wouldn't be in the shit we're in now." She mumbled.

"Well Charlie is gone. Who knows if he's even still alive." Marcus spoke in a grave tone.

"Shhh!" Roger silenced them and held up his hand. "You hear that?"

They stood still and listened for the slightest noise in the air. Then they heard it. Something was jumping from tree to tree as branches snapped and snow fell in piles. Throaty growls alerted them and the three of them backed up, fingers on the trigger ready to shoot what tried to attack them.

"I hear one of them hidden pouncers. Ev'ry one stay alert." Marcus muttered.

They switched on their flashlights and glanced around. They were out in the open so it would be easy to see the attacker, however, it would also be easy for the predator to catch its prey. The growls bounced off of the trees and made it seem like there was more than one. Tetra's hands shook and caused her flashlight to tremble slightly when they heard an earsplitting scream. Claws ripped into her shoulder and forced her into the snow as she felt herself being turned over onto her back to meet face to face with a hunter.

"Tetra!" Roger shouted and shot a few times at the hunter as he tore into her.

A bullet skimmed across his shoulder, but that didn't stop him from shredding her apart. Tetra tried to hit him with the end of her gun to get him off, but it was only knocked out of her hands. A long black tentacle wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the air, roughly shoving the hunter away into a tree stump and dragging Tetra into the white oblivion. Roger ran after Tetra in attempt to catch up to her, but only her screams of terror were left behind.

"What was that?" Marcus panted.

"I don't know, but whatever it was it doesn't like competition." Roger turned to the dead hunter.

"This is going to hell fast, Roger. Real fast. First Charlie goes missing and now Tetra's gone."

Roger fell to his knees not caring if the cold snow reached his waist. He scooped up a handful of crimson blood and threw it across the plaines.

"This shouldn't have happened! We should have stayed in the town!"

"With those things? They would have us all dead if he hadn't gotten out of there!" Marcus battled back.

"At least we would have all died together instead of being picked off one by one! Don't you see, Marcus, we were all brought here and now we're going to all die here!"

"Now don't overreact on me. So two are gone, that doesn't mean we can't get out of here alive."

"If we're lucky. So far lady luck hasn't been so kind to us."

Marcus harshly punched Roger's cheek and sent him sprawling onto the snow. Blood dripped from his lip and onto the ground.

"Lady Luck doesn't need to be kind to us. She can be as abusive to us as she can, but we're still going to hold our heads up high and fight for our survival!"

His blow made Roger see the light. He picked himself up off the snow and took his gun back in hand. Marcus was right. For thus far Lady Luck had been the opposite, but while he was still alive they were going to make it out of the frozen wasteland with their lives. This thought made him think of what his team had gone through in the past.

Marcus Tom, once known as the Midnight Soldier, was an ex boxer who had gotten let go after he had gone deaf in his left ear due to repetive hits to his head. While he was never in any real wars, he was recognized by his military-like attitude in and out of the ring. As a child his parents were rather poor, and so he was sent off into Scotland to live with his grandparents, where he made a boxing title for himself. After they died he moved back to the states, but not with his parents as they refused to take him back. He dropped out of high school to brush up on his boxing skills and was soon sought after by many coaches for his ruthless, natural talent. During his early twenties, Marcus spent most of his life expanding his reputation when he took a death defying hit to the head. Although it didn't kill him, it did do a number to his hearing and a few hours after the incident his left ear stopped working. His manager let him go as he felt he was no longer useful and gave him a one way ticket to Alaska just to be rid of him.

Tetra Monroe was a photographer by day and a thief by night. She had a passion for capturing unforgettable moments on film and was lucky enough to have parents to support her in her dreams. Some say she was diagnosed with kleptomania, others say she just wished she had things she didn't have. During her schooling, she was successful and went on to college only to be kicked out of multiple schools for stealing. This turned her soft interior to become hard and her heart was eager to strive for more than just what was in her community. Since then, Tetra gave in to her impulse and stole multiple items from her friends and family. After they found out she took off from town and reports of numerous break-ins came up on the news. Her final destination was to Alaska to both take breathtaking photos and what was good there.

Roger Dallas was an actual war veteran who had been deployed to Afganastan for a while. With no living relatives, he felt he had nothing to lose whether he was KIA or brought home alive. He had a knack for using weapons and knew how to handle each one properly. Roger had been captured once and was pronounced MIA, Missing In Action, for a few weeks. No one knows what happened or why he was let go alive, but this was no without serious consequence. Since his release he refused to go back out into combat and the squad suffered many casualties because of it. Roger was then sent home and was discharged. Later on he went into becoming a biologist, but was fired as his PTSD got in the way of vital research. His boss gave him a ticket to Alaska to cool down in hopes he'd get his mind straight.

Charlie Gwyndol was a mysterious boy to have been in the team. Not much was known about him and he kept it that way. The only thing that was known was his close ties to his supposedly missing sister. As a child he and his sister were orphaned and he worked two jobs to support them. One day the Child Protective Services claimed his sister and took her to live with a couple in Alaska. Charlie had worked enough to save up for a ticket to get to Alaska to reclaim his sister as he had gotten a proper home for them, but this was declined by the services as they felt he was unsuited to care for her. For years he endlessly worried about how his sister was being treated by the couple and made plans to escape to find her and return her home. Once he got the ticket and was able to get into Alaska, he arrived a few days before the infection spread to most of the U.S.

"Lady Luck will shine her light upon us, Roger, wait and see." Marcus muttered.

"I guess you're right. What matters now is survival." Roger reloaded his gun. "Right now we need to find shelter if we are to survive. Let's go."

They continued their journey through the woods and the blizzard with only the moon as a light source and the stars as their guide. Nothing had tried to attack them since the hunter incident and all seemed too suspicious to let their guard down. Was there something scaring them off? A territorial tank? Or was it something even worse? Whatever it was, it was watching them, waiting for them to turn their backs on the dangers of the dark. Waiting for its chance to show its face in the light of their hope and shatter everything.


	3. Chapter 2: Speaking Death's Language

The night seemed to drag on and showed no sign of dawn approaching. The moon still hung above the two men as they made their way through the deep snow and at the same time watching each other's back. Whatever was out there made sure that, even though they knew it was watching them, it stayed hidden and out of sight. The blizzard had let up and was now softly snowing, the flakes drifting down to the earth like all was right with the world. The sky was clear and stars peeked out from the pitch black blanket that was the night, twinkling joyfully as if promising good fortune would cross their path. However, occasional groans and croaks would bring them back into reality from their peaceful imagination. As hope slowly died a sliver of light would remind them that it wasn't completely gone. That light was shattered as a blood curdling scream broke the silence and a woman ran at them.

"Damn banshees." Marcus hissed.

Banshees used their high pitched screams to stun their prey before attacking. Their agility matched that of a witch as did their ferocity, however banshees were easier to upset than a witch. They walk around quietly weeping or mumbling, but at the sight of you they charge. While banshees don't have the same hands as the witch does, their claws are long and sharp.

"We have to run! There's no way we could kill her with just the two of us." Roger shouted.

"This'll stall her then!" Marcus tossed a pipe bomb into the snow.

Its bleeps and light were muffled in the snow, but that made it all the better to be undetected. The bomb detonated right as the banshee stepped on it and she let out another horrid scream that shook the trees and air. She continued running after them more frantically her red eyes glowing like a wild fire and her hands outstretched to them. Roger turned briefly to shoot multiple times at her, but she didn't let up for a moment. He felt a stinging sensation on the back of his shoulder and saw that the banshee was directly behind him trying to knock him to the ground. Marcus brought the end of his weapon to her face and was able to get her away from Roger long enough for him to escape her. No matter how fast they ran the plaines were never ending. Suddenly, the zombie shrieked in fear and stopped the chase, turning around and running away in the opposite direciton. Her leg had been crippled due to the bullet that had found its way to her shin, and so she was half limping until she disappered back into the trees.

"There's definately something out there, I can feel it." Marcus breathed.

"The longer we spend out in the cold the faster we'll freeze to death. We gotta find a place to stay for the night." Roger walked on.

Blood seeped from his jacket and the wound began to fester and stung even worse. Roger held one hand against the cut to keep it from bleeding, but he didn't stop until they came upon a small shack. It's wooden walls would protect them against the frost outside, but what about zombies? Marcus felt a hand tug on his leg and jumped away, shooting a few times at the object that lay hidden in the snow. Roger pushed him back and glared at him.

"It's the dead of night, Marc, you'll bring unwanted guests doing that."

"Something tried to grab me."

Roger unearthed what was underneath the snow and found a large creature. Its skin was red with frozen blood as it stuck onto four puncture wounds. White eyes stared blankly at nothing as they examined it. Wicked, curved claws, missing flesh chunks lost to frostbite, and a pouch on the middle of its spine. Marcus took out his hunting knife and sliced into it. It popped open and hot steam floated in the cold air, black tentacles and a clear substance sloshed out onto the frozen ground. He poked one of them and they twitched, moving eerily on the earth.

"Don't have any idea what this is, but it's one ugly son of a bitch." He sighed and sheathed his knife.

"It's the same thing that took Tetra away. If it's here then maybe she's here."

"I don't wanna rain on your parade, Roger, but I have doubts that she'll be waiting here."

"It can't hurt to have a little faith." Roger gritted his teeth.

"We don't even know what's in there. How do we know there isn't a witch or worse?"

Dallas reloaded his gun and clicked on his flashlight.

"We don't."

Gradually they approached the shack and noticed that the door had been busted open; possibly by the creature they recently discovered. Ghostly winds breezed inside leading a few small snowflakes into its blue insides. They crept through where the entrance once was and inspected every nook. Piles of cans were stacked up on one side, some opened and emptied out in another stack, and already burnt wood sat pitifully in the middle of the area. Roger knelt beside it and touched the ash with two fingers.

"It has been out for a while, about three or five days at the most. Something paid an unexpected visit to this place and, in a panic, the victim was forced to hastily put this out." He stood up and looked around the shack. "But why?"

Shuffling was heard on the second platforms and the two men held up their guns. Nothing came down, but the noises continued. Cautiously Roger made his way up the ladder, putting out his flashlight in the process, while Marcus trailed after him. The scuffling stopped for a moment and all was silent. Marcus put his gun to the target's head and had his finger on the trigger.

"You got one second to tell us who you are or I'll paint the walls with you." He growled.

"Don't shoot!" Roger shouted and pushed the gun away.

The bullet rang out as it shot through the roof. The flashlight beam shined on a girl huddled in a corner scared out of her mind. Her light turquoise parka had traces of blood as did her leg, which was soaked. She shook with fear and didn't look up at her attackers afraid of what she might see.

"It's okay, we just want to know your name." Roger whispered.

"L-Luna..." She stammered but still didn't meet their eyes.

"Where are you from?"

"Alaska."

"How old are you?"

She went silent for a moment. Marcus stepped in and shook her up a bit. Luna tried to get away, but the corner prevented her moving back any more.

"25! I'm 25 years old."

Roger nodded. "Can you walk?"

"I...I don't know." She moved her hand down to the bindings on her leg.

"Do you have anything to do with that ugly bitch out there?" Marcus demanded.

"The prowler? You found it?" Her blue eyes lit up with terror.

"Nevermind about that, right now we have to get you to a safer place to treat that wound." Roger put one of her arms around his neck and helped Luna to her feet.

"You mean getting her back to town? Have you gone mad?" Marcushissed.

"It's the only way. There are medical supplies there and warm places to stay for the night."

"If you haven't noticed that place is filled with zombies. "

"We'll have to deal with it."

They were already on the bottom floor by the time the argument was over. The blizzard had started up again, but only a little, as they ventured back out into the night to find the town of Coldfoot. By the time they got there it had reached midnight and the clouds moved over the light of the moon. They reached Coldfoot when Luna stopped and froze.

"What's wrong?" Marcus turned to Roger.

"Shhh, listen." Luna silenced them.

They waited for a moment, but heard nothing. Luna, however, refused to go any further.

"Can't you hear it? It's somewhere around us, I just don't know where."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Marcus ordered.

Then the growlings were heard. Another hunter has come to kill another one of them, Roger realized. Perhaps this time it would be him. Maybe this was his time to go. Luna was scared out of her mind as she made out the words that he was saying.

"**_I know you can hear me. I can smell your fear from here_**_._" The hunter hissed.

Rapidly she tried to hurry Roger forward. He kept up with her, but couldn't understand why. The voice grew closer and closer, echoing in her ears.

"**_You can try to run, but we both know it won't work_****_._**"

Luna struggled to run, but the pain in her leg kept her from doing so. She turned in time to see a shape against the moon's brightness crouching on a roof of a building. Yanking away from Roger she ran mindlessly away, but it was too late.

**_"I found you!"_**

The hunter pounced and began to merciless tear into Luna. She closed her eyes tight and fought as hard as she could to get him off. When he tried to go in to bite her Luna pushed his face away and she pounded his face with her palms to make him stop. His hood flew off and he stopped. His eyes were clawed out and his hair was short, black, and wavy. Marcus put his gun to the hunter's head and everything stopped.

"Any last words before I shoot your brains out, jumper?"

He tilted his head at Marcus and smiled, his sharp teeth stained scarlet. Luna stifled a gasp as he responded, words to her, growls to them.

"**_See you in hell you son of a-_**"

Marcus pulled the trigger and blood splattered out the other side of the hunter's head. The dead body fell on Luna, but it was too heavy for her to push off. Marcus took hold of his hood and flung it him to the side allowing Luna to get up.

"There are a lot of hunters around here. We've got to be on our guard." Roger announced.

"Like we haven't already noticed that." Marcus sighed.

It was a ghost town. With only a few zombies here and there, no one was to be seen. Luna requested to walk the rest of the way as she didn't want to seem too weak to carry on with them, scared that if she did they would disregard her like her last team did. When they reached the safe house, she was glad to be able to relax her leg for a moment when Roger came up to tend to it.

"I-it's okay, I can handle it." She offered.

"You've just got attacked by a hunter, Luna, I don't think nows the time to be pushing yourself too hard." Roger insisted.

She flinched as he undid the wrappings off her leg. It had stopped bleeding, but parts of her skin was shredded badly. He applied some anti-bacteria to the wound and bandaged it with clean wraps when Luna spotted his cut on his shoulder.

"What happened there?"

"Before we found you a banshee had chased us quite a ways. She ran away after a few miles, but got me real good." He put his hand on it.

"You should get that fixed."

"I'll be fine, it's nothing." He made sure the bandage was secure and stood up. "Do you know how to handle a gun?"

"Of course."

He nudged a shotgun over to her with the tip of his toe. "We need another shooter to stay alive. By the way," he glanced down at her with stern brown eyes, "how were you able to detect that hunter before we could?"

Luna picked up the gun and sat it on her lap as she looked for a logical explanation. For a few minutes it was silent, but he wasn't rushing her. Finally she answered.

"I heard his voice."

"That isn't possible."

"It is for me. Ever since this infection reached Alaska I've been able to hear them and I know that not all of them are bad. In fact I've helped some of them during my time of being stranded in that shack. They just want to be normal like everyone else, but can't because everyone's so afraid of them. They know I can hear them and aren't scared of me when I try to help them when they get hurt."

"That hunter didn't seem to be too enthusiastic about you." Roger cleaned out his own gun.

"There are different levels of the infection. There's the one where it's like you and I, normal, and then there are ones that are like the hunter, true killers. The ones in the middle are the infected. They hang on the balance of fighting for their humanity of a person, but giving in to the brutality of a zombie."

"That's a bunch of bullshit." Marcus scoffed. "The only good zombie is a dead one, and if it don't die the first time you kill it as many times as it takes."

"They have hearts I know they do. It's just clouded by the mist of what has become of them."

"You can say what you like, missy, but I'll keep to saving my skin from being eaten by them."

Luna didn't want to fight with him and didn't try to. Instead she fell asleep dreading what the next day would bring. Roger dug out a blanket from the supplies and put it around her before going to sleep himself.


End file.
